


Double Act

by SippingPlotting



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: mentions of Sybbie & Tom Branson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 19:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12042429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SippingPlotting/pseuds/SippingPlotting
Summary: A hitch in wedding plans as the new vicar realizes at the last minute Lord Grantham's granddaughter is Catholic.(Fits with the story "Darkness" but can hopefully be read as a ficlet stand alone.)





	Double Act

Barrow knocked once on the vicarage door, before stepping back and taking his appropriate place behind Lady Mary.  
He was not used to being included for tea at the vicarage, not used to be included in Lady Mary's social outings at all.  
The butler retained his professionally blank expression, but his collar suddenly felt too tight,  
and he wondered if his hair was well enough combed.  
Of course it was. 

Just stare the man down.

 

Barrow had been in the church for weddings and funerals, after all.  
Hadn't been cast out when various members of staff had dragged him in on a holiday.  
Surely this youngster wouldn't be judging him.  
There were more important things afoot. 

Beside him, Lady Mary muttered, “chin up.”  
And Barrow realized she was talking to herself.  
The new vicar was green as grass and Lady Mary quite intended to cut him down to size.

 

The old woman who answered the door had been keeping house there since the Crawley girls were youngsters, and she smiled readily enough, ushering them in.  
However, Mary knew that not everyone concerned with the church would still see her in the same light. 

A divorce.  
Lady Mary had committed the social sin of divorce from Henry Talbot.  
Even though the church allowed such things, it didn't mean that they'd look at her and approve.

 

Mary narrowed her eyes.  
She was Lady Mary Crawley, and the new boy would just have to deal with it.  
Deal with her.  
About their darling Sybbie.  
He'd called for her father, quite inappropriately, since it was Tom Branson who should have been here instead.  
But she wouldn't bother Tom with such silliness, not when he'd been recently ill.

 

“Lady Mary, what (ah) an unexpected treat,” the vicar said, rising as she entered.  
But then waving a hand to her, he sat back (much too quickly) down.

Mary grimaced slightly.  
No manners at all, these babies they were sending out to shepherd them now.  
If she ever needed guiding on her way to eternity, she certainly wouldn't trust this man to even know the direction, much less the path.

 

“You left a message for my father about church arrangements for my niece's wedding, and he agreed I should come instead.  
“He's not much one for wedding planning, after all.”  
Mary tried a smile, but it died briefly after reaching her lips.  
Vicars don't call at this point to discuss the flowers.  
There must be some problem in the planning of it all, and that might drive the whole thing off into the ditch.

 

“Well, you (ah) see, I have (ah) a bit of an issue that's come up.”  
The vicar pulled at his own collar, Barrow noted, making him feel glad.  
“I (ah) didn't know which (ah) of Lord Grantham's grand daughters I'd be marrying.”  
The man took a moment to clear his throat fully and pull himself up in his chair.  
(I'm a vicar, he scolded himself mentally. I should act like one, even in these first two months out.)

 

“Well, since my Violet is much too young, I'm not sure how the mistake would have arisen,”  
Mary said drily, boring her eyes into the boy.  
Collar or not, she could do some damage with that stare, she was sure.  
“And I know that you know us all, what with my father practically funding the church and your salary.”

Behind her Mary heard Barrow give a slight huff of what might have been amusement.  
Mary smiled slightly, feeling reassured. 

And then, smirking, went back to the fight.

 

“And the issue?” she asked biting off the phrase.

“Sybil Branson is Catholic,” the vicar managed, as though the fact left a bad taste in his mouth.

“And she was Catholic when you were up to dinner with us and assured my father that you'd be pleased to oversee a wedding,” Lady Mary volleyed back. “To her Not Catholic fiance, a soldier at war for King & Country even as we speak."

 

She bit off the words confidently enough, but still knew they might be in for trouble.

New vicar, dinner to greet him, approval of wedding plans.....she had feared the whole came together too simply.  
But Tom had warned her the priest at the nearby parish was twice as old and wouldn't be willing to bend.

They'd been so thankful when the obstacles hadn't appeared at St. Michael's.  
And now this.

 

“But I didn't know she was,” the vicar said nervously, beginning to clear his throat again, feeling the room was much too warm.  
“Perhaps we can have some tea while we discuss it.”

Miss Higley was coming in with a tray then, almost as big as herself.  
And without thought, Barrow moved to help her, earning a smile as the old woman and he managed the lot.

“I don't need tea. I need to know that you are holding to your promise.  
“A promise you made to my father, and it's not his or my family's fault if you made it in haste.”

Mary's infuriated tone made Miss Higley look up at Thomas in alarm, before backing speedily through the door.  
One of the Crawleys in a huff wasn't good business, she well knew.

 

In the resulting awkward silence,

Barrow came and held his position again behind her chair, staring at the man pointedly.  
“It's a (ah) a pity really,” the man strangled out, as Lady Mary quickly stood up and made ready to go. 

“A pity, yes,” she said, each word dripping ice.  
“Especially with the repairs,” Barrow added, quietly, as though the words held great meaning. 

“The (ah) repairs?” the vicar asked.  
(The repairs? Mary's thoughts echoed, wondering.)

 

Barrow glanced to Lady Mary and she nodded him to continue.  
“Well, we all know how his Lordship was thinking about helping with repairs to the church stonework. Pity to anger him.”

“He will be angry, having to hold it at the Catholic church,” Mary nodded at Barrow, quickly catching on.  
“He always has been Church of England through and through.”

“I was hoping that he wouldn't have any small bumps in the planning. That's why I agreed to come today. Even a small bump might have made him upset.”  
Mary turned and took a step away.  
“Why this, this....”  
And her voice trailed meaningfully off as she halted briefly to pull on gloves.

 

Behind her, Barrow kept eye contact with the vicar and nodded.  
Putting palms up as though to shrug.  
(These toffs, he tried to let his expression show. Such tempers. Can ruin a man.)

Thomas also turned, making it in two steps to the door,  
so as to open it before Lady Mary could be inconvenienced with the job. 

Knob turned, door opened, starting to step out.

 

“Wait,” called the new vicar in a wobbling voice. 

Barrow and Lady Mary shared a glance.  
Eye brow raised on his face.  
An eye roll from her. 

Slowly they wiped their expressions clean and turned back,  
two victors in a double act of sorts.


End file.
